the things that hound you
by fiesa
Summary: Cassandra Clare- Lady Midnight. For Emma, awakening comes like this. OneShot, Introspection- Emma Carstairs (Julian Blackthorn).
**the things that hound you**

 _Summary: Lady Midnight. For Emma, awakening comes like this. OneShot, Introspection- Emma Carstairs (Julian Blackthorn)._

 _Set: Post Lady Midnight._

 _Warning: Introspection/Fractured/Angst/Complete._

 _Disclaimer: Standards apply. Quotation from Peter S. Beagle, "The Last Unicorn", references to Cassandra Clare, "Lady Midnight", Vienna Teng, "Enough to go by", Natsuki Takaya, "Fruits Basket" and e. e. cummings, "i carry your heart with me"._

* * *

Sometimes Emma doesn't remember her dreams.

Those are the peaceful nights.

* * *

Oblivion comes like this:

 _falling asleep after days that fill her with sunshine and happiness like birthdays with Julian in the kitchen baking a cake and Livy and Dru decorating the room and Ty silently watching and Tavy six years old and so sweet so innocent so beautiful and breakfast lunch and dinner all of them together like the pieces of one heart they are made of enough to go by forever in daylight and night and as wide as the sea sun days on the beach sand in her hair and sunlight on her skin and peace in her heart and the children's laughter soaring towards the sky like winged song and after training with a proud look in Diana's eyes falling feeling holding Cortana Julian's hand on her back ever-present the touch of his fingers tracing words on her skin she can understand better than she can understand herself like glorious sunset on the shore with the whisper of the waves in her ears and Tavy's small hand in hers while Julian reads them a story his words resonating in the corner of her chest that belongs to him and there is nothing but peace inseparable EmmaandJulian JulianandEmma in a world of light and sound and color-stained fingers holding together the parts of her that were broken and nothing will ever come between them because she promised once and she will follow forever as long as Julian and Livy and Ty and Dru and Tavy are there she will walk on smiling like there is no tomorrow and live and fight and love she will die for them because that is what makes nephilim nephilim and she loves them in the same way she fights and she breathes_

* * *

And then, there are the times when she awakens and the nightmares are as real as anything she can see. Those are the nights she wants to scream, or punch the wall with her fists, or wants to cry cry _cry_ until all the grief and sorrow and _want_ have bled from her system.

* * *

 _(Spoiler: it does not work like that.)_

* * *

At least, she does not dream of her parent's death anymore.

Malcom Fade is dead. Died in the ocean, died surrounded by the grisly remnants of the evil he created, died torn apart from the shadows living in the blackest of black hearts of the sea. Emma Carstairs has had her revenge. In a way, it is the break of the page and the end of a chapter, or whatever term people who have no idea whatsoever might apply to it. And The Girl Who Lived For Revenge has again become The Girl Who Lives For Her Family and for something ( _someone_ ) she cannot dare even think about, much less have.

* * *

Nightmares come like this:

 _night is grey-black-blue demons everywhere and nothingness like a blanket covering the world through a broken kaleidoscope when she is empty and full of grief and hollow like a death-filled vessel of black light and her parents' bloodless bloated corpses on the seashore inktainted wordstained (go away go away go away i killed him already) the monsters that live under the sea ghostly white shadows broken windows torn corpses blood and screams all around her Tavy's tiny body in her arms run run little one don't look back Julian's hand in hers torn away slipping falling breaking dying Livy and Dru clinging to each other in a sea of blood a sword spinning away and towards her and through and Ty pounding his brother's chest i hate you i hate you Marc's and Helen's faces white with terror a gnarled tree a silver whip singing a cruel lullaby of betrayal like Julian's face the first time Marc touches Emma the feeling of falling into darkness filled with the sound of something breaking breaking breaking–_

Emma jerks awake, gasping, and the name that threatens to tear through her lips is as suffocating as the salty ocean water.

 _(How many lies and how many truths does it take to forget yourself?)_

* * *

Sometimes you break something big and know it doesn't matter that much. Sometimes the thing that breaks is tiny, small like the world, and the second it is gone you know it was the one and only thing you ever wished for.

* * *

The ocean tried to kill Emma once.

Waking up from a nightmare is like fighting the flood: gasping for air, drawing in something painful and unbreathable. Struggling upwards, against the draft of the currents that threaten to drag her under again and again. Clawing herself towards the light: and knowing there is no help, no one to save her. Julian – her best friend, her parabatai, her first and only love as long as the stars will sing – will not save her this time. Nothing will save her, not even waking up, because being awake is a nightmare as much as being asleep. Living in a world in which she is around him every day, every hour; has to talk to him, interact with him, fight alongside him knowing he will never, ever be _hers_ – is unbearable. Sometimes she wishes she would just die. Then she remembers she can't.

* * *

 _i die if you die emma_

* * *

Awakening comes like this:

 _arms around her warm oh so beautifully familiar there is nobody she knows like she knows him theirs is one heart like a fused clover leaf written all over her in a language only he can read they share scars her heart knows by touch alone like memories of memories of memories of him Julian Julian Julian my heart my love fire like ashes ever unquenchable i wish i was born as your heart there is a song and within the song there is you chase away my fears with your presence alone i am reborn with you in you within you touch me like there is no tomorrow in this world we are stars on collision course breathe into me set me alight and whatever the world sings is you and this is the secret that births universes into me and you and cradles a heart that is neither mine nor yours but one forever and ever until the sun's tale slowly dies out_

 _i am yours and you are mine_

And then, the realization, like something has reached into her chest, has grabbed the one thing that is really and truly _Emma_ and _tears:_ there is no heart in her room except for hers _._

* * *

Of course Julian is not there.

He won't be, not ever. Not after what she did – Marc's glances, her small touches, their exchanged words were more than enough. And while she bleeds out internally with every angry word her parabatai hurls at her, with every single one of the veiled, agonized glances she just so catches and pretends not to see, she knows it is the only thing she could have done.

They _cannot be together_.

Not in the way she wishes for so badly her body feels like shattering, over and over. Not in the way that matters, not truthfully. It is worse than any nightmare she might ever have, with the exception of the one of him losing his mind and descending into insanity just like his uncle: she cannot lose him. Waking up without him is worse than anything, hurts deep down in her bones: like a steady drumming reminding her that she is not whole, like she is fragile and on the verge of breaking. Every piece of herself she loses is just another part of him and she aches for his arms around her, his warmth on her skin. But waking up in a world in which he does not exist anymore - it is unimaginable. Sometimes she thinks she would gladly risk madness, if that meant just a little bit more time with him. But risking _Julian_ – it is impossible. Emma cannot – _will not_ – lose him like that, even if she never will be able to touch him again.

Never feel him. Never hear his laugh. Never-

* * *

There is a tale mundanes tell each other, one she heard, by accident, one night when she was tracking demons through L.A.'s residential districts. A mother told it to her children; three beautiful, wide-eyed, innocent children who listened to every word of hers raptly. The story was neither long nor short. In essence, it went like this: every human being is one half of a song, and everyone lives for the sake of finding the person who is the other half.

* * *

Emma always was the more stubborn one of the two of them.

Julian is the protector, the father to his siblings, the one person responsible for keeping their family intact. The one who learned to cook, to clean, to change diapers, to soothe bruised knees, the one who ordered bed-time and vegetables for dinner and discipline. Julian has lied, again and again, to save them. He has given everything he has and so much more for all of them, and Emma will never, _ever_ be able to measure up to him. She can't pay him back, either, because she doesn't have the cleverness, the drive and the strength that Julian has. She has thrown herself off every cliff, every rafter and every roof, has accepted every challenge that even so much as glimpsed her way, has fallen and has picked herself up again and again and a million times and still continued on, bruised and exhausted and disillusioned, in order to move forward and become stronger for the sake of avenging her dead parents. While Julian hasn't trained to become stronger for himself: he has trained and breathed and lived every second of his life for his siblings alone. And, contrary to Emma's parents, his siblings are _alive._ He held his arms open for everyone and Emma has, against her will at first and later gladly, fallen into him: again, and again, and _again_ , and so many times more until a Julian-shaped dent formed in her heart and her conviction grew as unyielding as the walls of the Iron Citadel. Julian has _always_ given her strength. Now she is strong enough to stand on her own, and stubborn enough to make it work.

* * *

They are incomplete, both of them, and together they are _right_ , but there is no way between heaven and earth that they will ever be allowed to be together.

* * *

So, after her morning run, Emma showers, dresses and puts on her smile, and joins the Blackthorns in the kitchen for breakfast. Dru draws her into a conversation with Christina, Livy and Kit and Ty carefully regard each other trying not to make it too obvious, Julian is at the stove with Tavy and Marc smiles at her and pulls her onto the bench next to him. Emma leans over to give him a shy peck on the cheek and pretends not to feel the aching pain in her chest pulling her in the other direction, or the coldness that radiates from Julian.

 _I love you more than starlight._

* * *

They have already tried and failed.

Or, rather, _Julian_ tried. (They both had failed.) Emma hadn't known, at that point, but how could she? How could one fall in love with a person one only half-guessed existed? Eight weeks of separation have only proven that _Julian_ can't let go of her. Now, the deck is stacked differently. Now, Emma holds the cards, now, Emma knows what is at stake. Maybe another try will bring results.

Maybe she can go to New York.

Stay at the Institute. Visit Clary and Jace. Do it like Christina – maybe even take Christina, if she can manage to separate her from Diego. Who hasn't been there much anyway, but still. Her friend hasn't yet told Emma the story – what made her run from her home, why she left behind her childhood friend and love – but she knows Christina will, eventually. Maybe Emma just has to get away from LA for some time, bring some distance between herself and Julian. Give him some time to cool down, allow herself some breathing space to adjust to Marc. Gather her strength and courage for the next few years of pretending the one person she loves most means nothing more to her than a childhood friend, a parabatai. Clary will be glad to take her in, Emma is pretty sure.

She just isn't sure she will be able to actually endure the physical separation.

* * *

She never told him before.

Emma shared all her secrets with Julian from the first moment she can remember. Each single one. She is not a good liar, and he would know, anyway, but she also _wanted_ to share them with him. Maybe, for that reason, she should have been angry that he has kept so much from her. But at the same time, she _knows_ him. She knows why he has done it, what he has been protecting – it has been for her sake, too, so how could she even dare being angry with him? Emma always shared everything with Julian. She told him about her day whenever they spent one apart (which hasn't happened often). She told him about her nights. She told him her dreams and her nightmares, her hopes and her fears; for the future, from the past; for the children, for the adults. She told him that she liked him, that he annoyed her, that she needed him, that she cared for him and that she couldn't live without him. She told him about earth and skies, angels and demons, mundanes and nephilim. But there is one thing she never told him before.

 _Julian Blackthorn, I love you more than sky song–_

Emma Carstairs never said the words out loud.

She lives them, instead.

* * *

Sometimes Emma doesn't remember her dreams.

Those are the sleepless nights.

* * *

 _"_ _I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you,  
as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. _

_But I cannot come in unless you dream of me."_


End file.
